


First Time For Everything

by Wargasms



Category: Hockey RPF
Genre: Aftercare, Bondage, M/M, Orgasm Delay, Rimming, Subdrop, Subspace, mentions of - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-08-08
Updated: 2015-08-08
Packaged: 2018-04-13 16:29:24
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,401
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4529007
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Wargasms/pseuds/Wargasms
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Tom's first time in subspace and subsequent subdrop</p>
            </blockquote>





	First Time For Everything

**Author's Note:**

> fill for sinbin kinkmeme prompt, my first hockey rpf and unbeta'd, sorry.  
> link below is for product mentioned in fic that's great for taking care of those bothersome wet spots.
> 
> https://www.pureromance.com/shop/Bath-Beauty/Linen-Sprays/Between-the-Sheets-Powder-Based-Linen-Spray-Caribb

Tom feels like he’s struggling through molasses, trying to regain some semblance of reality. He’d come not long ago, harder than he ever remembers coming in his life, so, this wasn’t an easy thing. His ass is sore from the spanking, his hole wet and sloppy from Mike eating him out afterwards. Tom had come rutting against the mattress, as that’s all the movement he was allowed, what with being tied down spread eagle on Mike’s bed.

Mike had finally gotten a bed frame, a four post one, that Tom thinks was chosen with these kind of moments in mind. He’s currently undoing the padded leather cuffs on Tom’s wrists. “Hey, Tommy, can you talk to me?” Mike asks and Tom tries to get anything out, only his mouth isn’t working, so all the issues forth is a grunt. 

“It’s okay, you don’t have to yet,” Mike sooths Tom when he looks up at Mike, who’s knelt beside him on the bed, hands on his bicep and shoulder, kneading at them. Tom belatedly realizes Mike’s already uncuffed his ankles and this means he can move now, but when he tries, all his muscles scream in protest.

With one quick movement, like ripping off a bandaid, Tom moves his legs straight together and his arms down by his side, wincing and hissing.

“I’ve got some water and Tylenol, here,” Mike says and reaches over to the nightstand that was part of the bedroom set, where he has a bottle of water with a straw in it and a couple of pills. Tom lifts his head a little and Mike presses the pills to his lips then the straw. He manages to swallow them and drink half the bottle. “There, that’s good. I’m going to go get a washcloth, clean you up, then put some of this cream on you, okay? I’ll be right back.”

Mike doesn’t leave until Tom nods, kisses Tom’s forehead then slips off the bed. And he’s not gone long, but to Tom it feels like forever. He’s flooded with this irrational fear Mike’s not coming back, that he’s alone now. Tom can feel the tears welling up in his eyes and he squeezes them shut.

That’s never happened before, but then he’s never let Mike tie him down before, never let Mike spank him so thoroughly. Up until tonight it’s been more about Tom following orders, some teasing and orgasm delay. He buries his face against the pillow to wipe the tears away, hide them from Mike.

“Back,” Mike says before he gently lays the washcloth against Tom’s lower back, “Spread your legs some, so I can clean you up, baby.” When Mike had finished spanking Tom, he’d jacked off, come all over Tom’s red cheeks. He had licked it up before going down on Tom, went to fucking town on Tom’s hole, there was spit and drool to be dealt with.

Tom spreads his legs and even tilts his hips, taking one hand to hold a cheek to the side. It makes him feel wanton, and he’s a bit embarrassed he likes that feeling so much. Mike inhales and Tom can just picture which expression goes with that sound, it makes his stomach flutter still when Mike looks at him like that.

Mike doesn’t take long in cleaning Tom with the cloth, gentle against Tom’s swollen skin and thorough on the crack and pucker where Mike had his face, where most the wetness is. When he’s finished, Mike has Tom turn onto his side, so he can wipe up Tom’s come from Tom’s skin and the comforter, scrubbing at the wet spot.

“Hold on,” Mike says and tosses the washcloth toward the dirty clothes pile then grabs a spray can off the dresser. He sprays the powdery substance on the wet spot and it dries up fast. Tom lays back on his stomach, arms pillowing his head now because the tears have slowed but not stopped, and Mike trades the can for a tube of cream. Mike puts some in his hands and rubs them together to warm it before gently spreading the cream over the reddened area.

It feels good on his swollen skin; Tom wonders how long he’ll be sore. He has a week to recover before camp but what if Mike went too far? Surely he wouldn’t, and it had never been bad enough at the time for Tom to safeword. It had hurt, but in a good way, the endorphins had kicked in and Tom had been flying high for a while and he knew he could be injured and not really feel it during those times.

“Hey, baby, you’re shaking,” Mike says, draping his body over Tom’s, mouth next to Tom’s ear. Mike’s body is burning hot compared to Tom’s, he’s so cold suddenly. 

Oh, he is shaking, minutely but still. Tom can’t hide that he’s freezing but Mike grabs for the far edge if the comforter and wraps it around them. Mike moves off Tom, lays on his side right next to Tom, warm body pressed along Tom’s. Mike rubs a hand over Tom’s back for a moment.

“Hey, look at me?” Mike asks and slides his hand into Tom’s hair, makes Tom face him. Tom blinks a little, manages to meet Mike’s eyes and he sees the moment Mike finds the tears, tracks how they fall down his cheeks. Mike doesn’t say anything at first, though his lips press together before relaxing again into something neutral, he just wipes the tears away with a thumb. Finally, he says, “Come here.”

Mike lays back on the pillows piled against the headboard and Tom moves to lay his cheek on Mike’s chest, head tucked under Mike’s chin. They wrap their arms around each other, Tom’s curling under Mike’s back and Mike’s gathering Tom close. Mike starts petting Tom’s hair, playing with the longer ends as his other hand strokes up and down Tom’s back again.

Tom tries to inhale slowly but it keeps hitching in his chest and he’s still shaking even though the comforter is tucked around them and Mike feels like a furnace underneath him. The tears fall, fresh and hot, and Mike must feel them because his hands pause briefly.

They start up again and Mike begins talking, low and quiet, pitched just for Tom to hear though there’s no one around. “You did so well tonight, Tommy, so good for me, listened and behaved, you were perfect. You remember holding still for me?” Mike pauses, waits for Tom to finally nod then goes on, “Almost didn’t even need to tie you up, you were so brave and strong for me. I knew you were in subspace when you started raising your ass for the next one. You remember that? When you finally stopped fighting it?” Tom nods again, because he does remember that. How he’d been begging for more, . His tears dry up as he listens to Mike. “God, I thought for sure you would come without permission then, but you held out for me, such a good boy.” Mike’s last two words make something release in Tom’s chest, he slumps more into Mike, not having realized how rigid he’d gone.

Tom remembers that, too, how he was about to come and held back because Mike said no. That's the part he really likes about all this, getting Mike’s permission. He always comes so hard when Mike finally says yes. 

“Is it bad? My ass?” he finally speaks to ask.

“No, baby. It’s not so bad, I mean, you probably will be a bit sore in the morning but by tomorrow night you’ll be fine. I wouldn’t really hurt you, Tommy.”

“I know,” Tom murmurs into Mike’s chest.

They lay there for a while as the tremors die down, Mike’s fingers slowly combing through his hair. He zones out for a bit, not really focused on much but the solid presence of Mike beneath him, the beating of Mike’s heat against his ear, the up and down motion of Mike’s chest with each breath. Tom wakes from the lull to realize he’s drooling on Mike’s chest. He sits up and moves to the side, uses the edge of the comforter to wipe Mike’s skin dry with a sheepish grin, one that Mike shares with him. They surge together in a kiss, lips meeting and opening with practiced ease.

**Author's Note:**

> This ends where it ends because I may add more someday but atm my life is in serious upheaval so who knows if/when that may happen..


End file.
